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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22440697">Impatient</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux'>cowboykylux</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Flip Zimmerman/Reader Uploads [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>BlacKkKlansman (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Car Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Married Couple, Sex in a Car</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:40:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22440697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You okay?” Flip asks, sparing a glance away from the road to feast his eyes on your face as you unbuckle your seatbelt.</p><p>You give him a knowing smile, eyes sparkling as you pull your hair back, twist it into something resembling a ponytail, shifting in your seat to face him instead of sitting properly. You can see the moment when his brain catches up to what you’re doing, and when you twist your body around to bend over onto his lap, you feel wicked when you tell him to, “Keep driving.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Flip Zimmerman/Reader, Flip Zimmerman/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Flip Zimmerman/Reader Uploads [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1221752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Impatient</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s dark, the roads empty. Not a single car stretching for miles on end, no headlights in either direction.</p><p>It’s dark, and it’s raining, the blur of golden streetlamps cut through with the sleet of rain zipping past the windows. You’re leaving a party, the two of you, you and Flip. Leaving a party at a friend’s place that had gone on long into the night, had gone on so long that the both of you were glad when it was finally over, glad to be able to go back home.</p><p>It’s dark, and the radio is softly playing, some oldies station that’s crackling in and out of service because you’re getting into no-wheres-land territory, getting far out into the country on your way home, on your way away from the hustle and bustle of the city, of the suburbs.</p><p>You hadn’t been able to take your eyes off of one another, during the party. You never can, not really. You’re drawn to one another, always have been, always will be. Two halves of the same coin, someone once joked, two sides of the same star.</p><p>He just…he just looked so fucking <em>good, </em>the way he sat on the couch with you on his knee, looked so good the way he sipped his beer and smoked his cigarette, looked so fucking good the way he mimed and charaded his way to victory. And you could tell he was thinking the same about you, could tell it was taking all the strength he had to not jump you in front of everyone, with the way he was staring.</p><p>But now, now that you’re on the way home, you’ve made a decision. You want him, and with another cursory glance at the empty roads, you detangle your hand from where it’s been holding his the whole time.</p><p>“You okay?” Flip asks, sparing a glance away from the road to feast his eyes on your face as you unbuckle your seatbelt.</p><p>You give him a knowing smile, eyes sparkling as you pull your hair back, twist it into something resembling a ponytail, shifting in your seat to face him instead of sitting properly. You can see the moment when his brain catches up to what you’re doing, and when you twist your body around to bend over onto his lap, you feel wicked when you tell him to, “Keep driving.”</p><p>His foot nearly slips off the gas pedal when your warm fingers deftly undo the button of his jeans, and he keeps looking back and forth between the street beyond and your head as it nuzzles into his crotch. Sometimes you wonder how the fuck you were expected to be productive, how you were supposed to get anything done, when your husband had a dick like this.</p><p>Even through the denim of his jeans, it’s hard, a rigid line sticking up, stretching the fabric. You mouth at the jeans there, wet them with your tongue, soak right through it, through his underwear. You can smell how horny he is for you, how horny he has been all night.</p><p>“Ketsl are you sure – ” His throat runs dry before his mouth completely waters, has to swallow and swallow again, thinking about the way you’ll swallow his cock, his come. He has to steel himself against the wheel, has to shut his eyes, pinch them closed for just a second, because he’s already so fucking far gone for you that it almost overwhelms him.</p><p>“Eyes on the road, cowboy.” You pull out his dick, hard and leaking, throbbing in your hand, and give it an experimental squeeze, a tug, a nice good stroke as you lick from the very base all the way up to the head.</p><p>“Oh, holy shit.” Flip smacks his head against the leather headrest, thuds it like he’s angry, like he does sometimes when his road rage acts up, when there’s traffic on the roads.</p><p>There’s no traffic here, not anything, no one to see his white-knuckle grip as you suck his cock down your throat, as you flatten your tongue and take him all the way down. If there were a better angle, he’d be able to see it stretch out your neck, he’d be able to see the bulge of it as you deep-throat him. He’s almost glad he can’t see it, because if he did, he’d come on the spot.</p><p>“(Y/N), ketsl, honey, baby – ” He’s frustrated, wants to fuck up into you, but he can’t compromise his feet on the pedals, can’t go moving around too much and it’s driving him crazy.</p><p>He groans, and suddenly you feel a tight fist in your hair, balling up your locks right at the base of your skull and forcing you down deeper. You gag, and he gives you an apologetic smile when you pull yourself off his cock, spit stringing all down your chin.</p><p>“Both hands on the wheel.” You wipe your face with the back of your hand, kiss his cheek, and settle back down.</p><p>You alternate between flat laps of your tongue and hollowed-cheeked sucks. The rain hits hard on the windshield, but you make him moan louder, make the leather of the steering wheel creak under the strength of his hands. He’s got such good hands, you think randomly, as you swirl your tongue around just the head of his dick, teasing the ridge of it.</p><p>“You’re gonna make me fucking crash.” He grunts, his hips desperately wanting to buck up.</p><p>“No I won’t, you’re a good driver.” You make him moan as you make out with his cock, as your tongue and lips rub all over the hot hard flesh of his shaft, as you swallow him back down.</p><p>“Your mouth,” He sounds like he could cry, sounds like he’s getting choked up in between his gasps, “Fuck, your mouth is so hot, you’re perfect.”</p><p>When you need to breathe again, you pull off of him, take in big gulps that make you dizzy as you look up at him through sweat-sticky lashes, as you lick the taste of his pre-come off your lips, your chin, your cheek. He can’t help but stare at you, can’t help but want to caress your cheek, but he’d sooner chop his hands off than remove them from where you’ve told him to place them.</p><p>He’s good for you, loves being good for you, loves the praise you give him when he does what he’s told. He’s all yours, completely and totally, he wants to be good for you. Especially when you’re so perfect, when you’re all his too, when he’s so fucking lucky that he gets to fuck you, gets to have you suck his cock.</p><p>“I love your big dick,” You purr, seemingly reading his mind, stroking him with your hand steadily. You can see his thighs tensing, can see his lower stomach fluttering, and it fills you with such pride that even after all this time together, the two of you are still so hungry for one another. “Big dick just for me. I saw it straining in your jeans when we were leaving, saw how hard you were.”</p><p>“I’m – (Y/N)! – I’m always hard for you.” He huffs and puffs, wanting to rail you hard, wanting to give as good as he was getting, because fuck, what he was getting was <em>so </em>good. He bites at his lips, wants to kiss you, wants to touch you, “I always want you.”</p><p>“I know, greedy.” You tease, your hand speeding up just a little as you ask, “Do you like this? Like getting blown in the car by your whore?”</p><p>With that, you duck your head back down, not giving him really any time at all to respond before you’re sucking his dick like your life depended on it, like you’d die without it, like he’d rip apart at the seams, the only thing keeping him together being your lips stretched around him.</p><p>“God <em>damn</em> it – honey.” He’s all over the place, biting at his lips, hands flexing and tensing on the steering wheel, thighs trembling, hips twitching, “I’m gonna, I’m – ”</p><p>You hum around him, not wanting to stop, not wanting him to stop – and he comes. It’s so hot when it hits the back of your throat, hot and thick. He always had such a big load, you think absentmindedly, as you swallow him down so you don’t choke. He moans low and deep above you, disobeying for only a minute to pet your hair back as you still work his cock, as you make sure to catch every little drop on your tongue.</p><p>You eventually pull off of him, watch as his cock bobs back against his stomach, still hard. You smiled, so pleased, so smug, at the ability to get him and keep him hard. You knew you were in for such a good pounding tonight, knew that the second you got home he’d be on you, he’d be bending you over any and every flat surface in the house.</p><p>Your stomach swoops suddenly though, as the car begins to slow down. Flip looks angry, looks hungry, looks desperate, and you frown, wondering why he wouldn’t be speeding home, flying down the empty road.</p><p>“Why are we stopping?” You ask, sitting up so you don’t get dizzy from the change in momentum.</p><p>He pulls the car over completely, off the road and onto the shoulder, and the moment he puts the thing in park he’s got his hands all over you, is maneuvering you to lay down, spreading your legs.</p><p>He shoves your panties aside and for the first time all evening, you really pay attention to how soaking wet you are, how your pussy is fluttering, clenching around nothing, wanting to be touched, to be filled, to be <em>anything.</em></p><p>And when he shoves the scrap of fabric to the side, and when he sees just how soaked through you are, he sticks his fingers in your mouth to collect his come off your tongue, uses his come and your spit to smear his fingers against your pussy, uses it to lube up the digits as they wriggle their way inside of you.</p><p>“You didn’t think I wasn’t going to return the fuckin’ favor, did you?” He asks, lowering his mouth to your clit and sucking hard, making you gasp out a big laugh.</p><p>Because after all of that, all the teasing, all the playing and the staring and the sucking and the coming – who could blame your man for being so impatient?</p>
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